


Wedding Gift

by fits_in_frames



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-19
Updated: 2004-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-21 11:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1549352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fits_in_frames/pseuds/fits_in_frames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam finally lifted his eyes. "It's just—it's tomorrow. I don't know if I'll be able to do it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wedding Gift

"Sam!" Frodo's voice came loud from some distant corner of Bag End. Sam couldn't quite pinpoint where he was. He padded down the hallway.

"Mr. Frodo?" He peeked his head into the study. Not there. He checked the bedroom. Not there either.

"Sam?" This time it was clearly from the washroom.

Sam swallowed and caught his breath for a moment. "Yes, Mr. Frodo?" he chirped through the closed door.

"I'm decent, Sam, come in."

The door creaked open. Sam's nose barely entered the room, the rest of him staying put behind the door. Frodo was standing, in the afternoon sun, bare-chested and damp-haired. He dropped his arms to his sides.

"Sam. It's just me."

Sam stepped inside and in front of the door. He averted his eyes. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Sam." Frodo took a step towards the door. "Why won't you look at me?"

"Just bein' respectful, sir." He clasped his hands behind his back and sheepishly stared at the ground.

"Sam. It's just me." He touched Sam's face and the younger hobbit jumped. "You look nervous."

Sam finally lifted his eyes. "It's just—it's tomorrow. I don't know if I'll be able to do it."

"The wedding, Sam?"

Sam nodded.

"I think you'll do just fine. If this is the same hobbit who saved my life, I think you'll do just fine reciting vows." He brushed Sam's face with the back of his hand. Sam leaned into the touch and finally relaxed. "That's it. Now, the reason I called you in here." He held up his shirt, revealing a small hole. "Could I bother you to mend it?"

"Of course, Mr. Frodo. I'll even get you a fresh one."

"Thank you Sam."

***

When Sam was gone, Frodo turned from the door to face the window and wrapped his arms around his middle, wanting nothing more than to feel hot tears run down his face. All that talk about the wedding had made him lose his composure. It reminded him he would never have that love, not from a lady. No. His mind protested, forcing him to remember. He knew he would never have that love from Sam, not if he was to marry Rosie.

The door opened again and Sam entered. "Here's your shirt, Frodo." He held out a crumpled bundle of cloth.

Frodo turned and smiled weakly. "Just put it there on the bench, Sam."

"Are you all right, sir?" He heard Sam place the shirt down and walk up behind him. He felt the gardener's rough hand on his shoulder and turned away. "Frodo?"

"I'm fine, Sam." He smiled the same weak smile and looked at Sam.

"Frodo, don' think I can't tell when you're lyin'." Sam looked at him knowingly.

He pushed Sam's hand off his shoulder and turned to lean against the tub. He would not have noticed he was crying had the tears not splashed into the now-cold bath water. The only word he could utter escaped his throat. "Go."

"Frodo..." He heard Sam take a step.

"Just go, Sam," he snapped. "Please."

Sam backed away and left the room. Frodo collapsed on the floor, cheek on the tub, his sobs echoing off the porcelain.

***

Sam knew what was wrong. It was the same reason he had not wanted to enter the room initially. Frodo had always been fond of Sam, but when they started out on the quest, it was quite clear that his fondness was more than most master-servant relationships required. Frodo asked him to do things that he wasn't comfortable doing at first, but in time, Sam was happy to oblige his master; it satisfied him as well. By the time the ring had really begun to take hold and Frodo started to want Sam less and less, they were quite close, but had never made love. After it was destroyed, both were so worn out that they had  
resigned themselves to the fact they would never truly express their love physically, though they never spoke of it.

But when they arrived in Minas Tirith, he told Frodo of his nearly-abandoned plan of marrying Rosie Cotton. Frodo, of course, first asked if it would make Sam happy to do so, and of course Sam said yes. _Then what are you asking me permission for?_ Frodo had asked. _Well, I just thought..._ Sam had replied. _Sam, what we had over these last months is ours, but you are young. Be with who you like. I can't force you to not marry her. Know that I love you, but I don't expect you to hang around an old hobbit like me the rest of your life._ Sam, with tears in his eyes, had embraced the still-weak Frodo. _Thank you_ , he had whispered into the dark curls on his neck. That was the end of the affair. No goodbye kiss, no apologies, nothing. Just _thank you_.

Sam hadn't been able to tell it was affecting Frodo until that day. _Just go_ was not a typical thing for him to say when Sam offered comfort. Sam wasn't sure himself if he could handle the ceremony, knowing what they were and what they never had. He also knew he had to marry Rosie. It was just the way things were done. You didn't fall in love with your employer, regardless of whether you spent one of the most difficult experiences ever with him or not. And he loved Rosie. He couldn't abandon her.

When Frodo called him inside from the kitchen window, he felt torn in two. He loved them just the same, but how could he go on without betraying them both? He dropped what he was doing and went inside. Perhaps Frodo wanted to talk. Perhaps that would clear his mind.

***

Frodo waited at the kitchen table, stiff-backed and wide-eyed. Perhaps this was too much, what he had in his head, but it was worth a shot. He jumped when Sam tapped on the door frame.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

He smoothed his hands over the table in front of him. "Yes, I did. Sit down."

Sam didn't move. "With all due respect, I need to be goin' soon, sir. I'd rather not waste time with chairs."

"All right." They still had not made eye contact. "I've been thinking a lot lately, Sam."

"Oh?" Sam shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. And then, as if he didn't know the answer, he asked, "About what? If you don't mind me askin'."

Frodo looked up, bewildered. "About you, Sam."

"I see." He tried to sound surprised and Frodo couldn't help but smile a little.

"You're all grown up, Sam. You've been to the end of the world and back again—and now you're getting married." He stood up and touched Sam's arm. "I wanted to get you something—a wedding gift of sorts. But I've been at a loss for what to give you."

"Oh, Mr. Frodo, you don' have to be doin' tha'." Sam tried to laugh, but it came out as a nervous quaver to his voice.

"But I want to, Sam."

"Frodo." Sam placed his hand on Frodo's cheek. "The only gift I could ever need is just to see you tomorrow. Just to have you there between the flowers and the maypoles. Just to have that memory of you on my wedding day."

Frodo involuntarily cringed at the last two words. "I don't know if I can do that, Sam. I'm afraid it might... hurt me." When he opened his eyes again, Sam's hand was gone. "I'm sorry."

Sam turned back to face him and asked, bitterly, "What for?"

"For ever falling in love with you." He blinked tears out of his eyes, but they were quickly replenished. When Sam stepped towards him, he spat, "Just go," for the second time in one day.

***

Sam couldn't concentrate for the rest of the day. Poor Frodo. But what could he do? This time the next day, he would be a married hobbit and married hobbits just didn't do... _that_.

As the sun set, Sam gathered all his things in the parlour and ventured to Frodo's bedroom. He tapped lightly on the door. No answer. He creaked the door open. Nothing. Dead quiet. He stepped inside and whispered, "Frodo?"

From under the covers came a muffled sob.

Sam cleared his throat and said, a little louder, "Frodo?"

Frodo lifted his head into the growing dark and breathed the words, "I'm here, Sam."

***

Frodo buried himself back into his pillow, and did not move until he felt strong gardener's hand on his back. He shifted, turned his head and wiped his nose. "What is it, Sam?"

Sam glanced up and down the rumpled bed sheets, rubbing Frodo's back. "Just makin' sure you're all right."

"I am." That was a lie, but he didn't think Sam could handle the truth, not on the eve of his wedding.

Sam, however, saw through him. "What did I say before about lyin', me dear?"

Frodo retreated to his pillow again. He couldn't stand to let Sam see him like this. "Go home, Sam."

"Oh no you don't," Sam scolded, "I'm not leavin' here until we get this set back to what it should be. Now we both know what's botherin' you and it's botherin' me, too. Now what do you propose we do about it?"

Sam certainly had grown up. Frodo lifted his head again. "What do you think, Sam?"

"Well, I was thinkin' we could talk it out; that always seems to be the way you like to solve your—"

Before he could think, Frodo pressed his lips against Sam's. He placed his hands on the strong shoulders, slipping his fingers under the suspenders.

They easily slid off.

***

Sam lifted his head and looked out the window, then down at his own bare chest. "Frodo?"

"Mmmmm..."

He placed his hand on Frodo's shoulder. "I have to be goin', love."

Frodo rolled over, pinning Sam's hand for a moment. "All right, Sam."

Sam sat up slowly and dressed quickly. He tried to pull his suspenders over his shoulders, but one didn't work. "It's broke."

"What's broken?"

He held up the front clasp to one side, split in two, and smiled. "It's your fault you know."

"A little too rough for Master Gamgee, am I?" Frodo, naked, grinned.

Sam stood, bent, and kissed Frodo one last time. "Never. Just a little too rough for my clothes!" He stepped towards the door.

"Sam."

He turned. "Yes love?"

"I love you."

"I love you too. Even if you did break my clothes." He grinned, then suddenly became pensive. "Frodo, what was it you wanted to give me?"

Frodo, who was adjusting his bed sheets, looked up for a moment, knowingly. "Sam..." He smiled and dropped his eyes shyly.

He nodded. "That's what I thought."

"Was it a good gift?" Frodo whispered, eyes still downcast.

He knelt on the bed for a brief moment and kissed Frodo's cheek. "The best I've ever gotten." He stood again. "Thank you."

"It was—it was my pleasure." Frodo's grin lit up the dark room. "Now go, Samwise. You have a big day ahead of you."

Sam, who was halfway out the door, turned. "You'll be there, sir?"

Frodo, still grinning, declared, "I wouldn't miss it for anything, love."

Sam nodded and stepped out the door.

***

Frodo kept his grin even after Sam left. He had accomplished a great many things in his lifetime, and giving himself to Sam made the list complete.

"Not for anything at all," he echoed into the dark and slept, undisturbed, till sunrise.


End file.
